


kintsugi

by Nebbles



Series: it's always been you - Sylvix Week 2020 [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Healing, M/M, Pillow Talk, Scar Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26609719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebbles/pseuds/Nebbles
Summary: Felix and Sylvain talk about each other's scars, the way they've gotten them from protecting one another. It's made them stronger in many ways, and it's helped them learn to start healing.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: it's always been you - Sylvix Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932958
Comments: 11
Kudos: 63
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	kintsugi

**Author's Note:**

> Kintsugi, also known as kintsukuroi, is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, a method similar to the maki-e technique. The sentiment of repairing one another, picking up each other's pieces, speaks to Sylvain and Felix's relationship.
> 
> For Day 3, Injuries/Healing.

“Do magic scars hurt, Felix?”

It’s asked on a rainy afternoon, Sylvain and Felix curled up under a blanket on a dorm bed that’s much too small. His fingers dance down the pale scars like raindrops running down a window, slow and careful over its surface.

“You get used to them,” comes his answer, “they only hurt after I use a lot of spells.”

“Mmm.” Sylvain seems somewhat satisfied. “You haven’t been doing that a lot lately, I hope.”

“I know better than to push myself.” Felix’s eyes follow the gentle patterns Sylvain’s tracing on his arms. He almost, he wants to doze off right here, eyelids heavy from these touches. “If I don’t let you run off and do anything stupid, I can’t either.”

Sylvain snorts, and Felix feels his breath tickle his neck. “You have more scars than I do, and also live in the training grounds.”

Felix scoffs and rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face betrays any feigned annoyance. “Then why aren’t we there right now?”

“Lack of a bed, probably.” Sylvain noses into Felix’s hair. “And I don’t think you’d want to cuddle there.”

“Hilarious.” He watches Sylvain’s fingers slip into his hand. “But to go back to your previous question, it’s rare they bother me.” 

“You’d tell me if they were, I hope.” There’s a slight adjustment as the other man shifts to press his lips a jagged Thoron scar on Felix’s shoulder. “I need to know which ones to kiss better.”

Felix hates how well those lines tend to work on him, how they give his cheeks a rosy glow as he watches Sylvain dote on him. “All of them, if you’re going to be that way.”

When Sylvain laughs, Felix swears it’s warm enough to break through the rain clouds and breathe sunlight onto the monastery grounds. It’s one of the sappiest thoughts he’s had in his entire life, but he doesn’t find it within himself to really give a shit. There’s something healing about being this  _ honest  _ with someone, this open without hesitation or fear. He’s given himself to Sylvain, and gotten nothing but love in return. They’ve seen each other’s worst sides, dragged each other off battlefields coated in grime and blood, and somehow have loved each other more.

What’s the phrase, exactly? If you don’t love someone at their worst, you don’t deserve them at their best? Felix is certain they’ve loved each other more in their low points, somehow. Even if they spent years pushing each other away in the past, they’ve always come back to each other. Through every instance of loss and fear, of exhaustion and heartache, Felix finds himself drawn back into Sylvain’s comforting embrace.

“What about your scars?” Felix knows he has more than enough to count. “Do they ever hurt?”

“Not as much as they used to.” He settles against Felix’s back once more. “The one Miklan gave me? It’s nothing compared to the ones I’ve gotten protecting you.”

“Sylvain.” Miklan. He’s sick of that man’s name, the way he  _ still  _ dares to crawl his way out of hell and hurt Sylvain years later. “Does that one still bother you?” He shifts so he can face Sylvain, whose eyes are now closed.

“It hasn’t in a long time.” He gives their conjoined hands a squeeze, and places them over his heart. It’s close to where the scar resides, because of  _ course  _ that bastard aimed to kill. “When it rains, it feels uncomfortable. But it’s nothing more than that. I promise.”

With a scrutinizing gaze, Felix studies Sylvain’s expression. It’s been some time since Sylvain’s obscured the truth from him, but Miklan’s always a tricky subject to work around. “Are you still uneasy around thunderstorms?”

He swallows thickly. “You know I am. But I’m fine when it rains, thanks to you. I can think of lying at your side, and I feel better. It’s a nicer association.” 

His free hand cups Sylvain’s cheek, dusts over his faint freckles. “Good. I’m glad.” 

They rest in silence for a while, and Felix presses his ear to Sylvain’s chest. He focuses on his heartbeat, how at ease they are, how  _ lucky  _ they are to have moments like this in the middle of a war. By no means are they in the best shape of their lives, but they’re alive, and that has to count for something. He wishes he was better about this whole… comforting thing, but he’s still learning that, too.

One of Sylvain’s arms is securely locked around his waist. It’s covered in its fair share of scars as well, some minute in size, some jagged and uneven like an angry row of teeth. It’s sad, in a way, the amount of injuries that decorate their bodies. Felix thinks it’s a sign of strength, how they’ve overcome all the obstacles this war and then some have decided to throw their way. He’s sure other people feel differently, that they hate their scars and they hate fighting.

Fighting is what kept him safe. It’s what kept Sylvain safe. The others can keep those thoughts to themselves. 

Sylvain mumbles something faint, barely over the rain. Felix doesn’t catch it, and looks up at him. “You gonna repeat that?”

“Just thanking you,” he yawns mid-sentence, “for helping me with all this stuff.”

Leave it to Sylvain to give a thanks of such magnitude. “I’m just glad I did something.” It’s good that Miklan’s haunting them less from beyond the grave.

“I used to never be able to sleep when it rained.” Lazy fingers rake through soft blue hair. “But look at me now, half asleep in our bed.” Felix is positive there’s a sleepy, yet goofy smile on his face.

“I’d wish you told me earlier, you know.” Even if Felix knew this information before they got together, he would’ve done something. Then again, there’s plenty of things he waited to tell Sylvain. “I always wondered why you were absent when it rained.”

It took a particularly nasty thunderstorm for Felix to coax this information out of a Sylvain huddled in the corner of his room, eyes looking for shadows that weren’t there. He’d been patient, hands wrapped around his as he encouraged him to talk at his own pace. He’d heard the words Miklan, Lance of Ruin, and Conand Tower. It was all he needed to know.

He held Sylvain until they fell asleep under a thick layer of blankets, their breathing in sync, his head buried into Felix’s shoulder. Since then, whenever grey clouds rolled in, Felix made sure to keep him safe.

“We’ll continue to learn how to heal, yeah?” Sylvain’s barely clinging onto consciousness. “I’ll kiss any new scars better.”

He’s cute when half-asleep. “Of course. I’ll return the favor.”

Felix listens to Sylvain’s breathing, his heartbeat, and finds it more relaxing than the rain could ever hope to be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, make sure to leave a comment/kudos! If you want to hear about future works and rambles, make sure to follow me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/that_nebbles)


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